


Thorns of Every Rose

by pumpkinpeasy



Series: demon!cas [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Porn, Angst and Romance, Barebacking, Blood Drinking, Bloodplay, Bottom Dean, Breathplay, Codependency, Come Swallowing, Come as Lube, Dark Fantasy, Dark Magic, Dean/Cas Big Bang Challenge 2015, Demon Castiel, Demon Summoning, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Falling In Love, Forced Ejaculation, Forced Orgasm, Gratuitous Smut, Implied Cannibalism, Love Potion/Spell, Love/Hate, M/M, Marathon Sex, Marking, Mating Dances, Mild Kink, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multiple Orgasms, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Past Lisa Braeden/Dean Winchester, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Castiel, Possessive Sex, Protective Castiel, Rough Body Play, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Scent Kink, Sex Addiction, Situational Humiliation, Smut, Top Castiel, True Love, Warlock!Dean, Witch Dean, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 18:15:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5215784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pumpkinpeasy/pseuds/pumpkinpeasy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What begun as a terrifying encounter between Dean and this demon, had grown and flowered into something far more emotional and interlocking. A short story follows Dean and Castiel through their their trips and falls through love, lust, and sin. A transfiguring adoration and ardent intimacy, that would bloom and blossom like the roses, the same way that they kissed like they had been lovers for years, the way their bodies slotted together like they were meant to, as puzzle pieces in their game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thorns of Every Rose

Corruption is a powerful demon.  
  
It can strike ruination and darkness upon every bright soul that gives in to said power, and leaves blackened, scorched imprints on the hearts of people who touch it. The longer the touch, the fiercer the damage. From all that Dean had learnt over the years, the corruptions of man’s weak will and the abuse of his sinful desire, ruinations simply take and leave nothing in return. Or so he thought. From the fountain with which he poured his soul, his thoughts and curiosities were painted in black ink upon the pages of his journals. He’d filled them with spells and chants, wishes, magical texts that he’d gathered over due course.

Dean had learnt much, and he was storing it for future generations of witches and warlocks. Stacks upon stacks of grimoires and leather-bound journals, were hidden in his closet, the door locked to anyone but himself who wished to open it. Sam would never know about this; as far as Dean’s brother was concerned, he was enjoying the life of an abstract artist, in a nice flat in Lebanon.  
  
Dean was rather pleased with himself, for keeping this to himself for so long. And, here he sat, pleased with himself, in the corner of his flat, well and truly on his own… At least for now. Dean pulled the circular coffee table closer to him, as he knelt on the floor. White chalk painted an intricate pentagram, circling it with ancient runes and sigils copied from both memory and the grimoire beside him. On the yellowed, crackling pages, old diagrams of spellwork told him how to complete the ritual. Nervously, he took a deep, shuddering breath, and he pulled away from the table for a moment, glanced out the window.

It was a pitch-black night outside, close on the end of 1am. The moon was full, and hung low, bright and silvery, close to the earth. It was the prime opportunity for him to complete his wishes. Dean gathered his wits, and began placing a white candle at each point of the pentagram. It was the right time.  
  
The flat's lights were down, save for the fireplace, that was alight with orange flames licking hungrily at the tempered air. Incense was burning, on the floor, near him, filling the room with the scents of crushed roses, lavender, and cloves. It wasn't necessary, but Dean had considered it to be nice. The warlock touched his finger to each candle, setting the wick alight instantly, a small, fiery tongue at the tip of each of them. He placed a sheet of paper at the centre of the pentagram, and took out a pen.  
  
He started writing.  
  
He was pouring his thoughts into the paper, through black ink and a pure, unvarnished intent. It was completely and totally what he desired, what he needed. Required, was an understatement, when it came to specifications of magic. Demons were alike genies, in more ways than one; if you’re inspecific, you could ask for love, and get the unreasoning, unyielding attention of a disgusting, potent hellraiser. With both fear and control in his heart, he pleaded with the dark goddess, Lilith. After a while, when he'd said enough, Dean ended the letter with:  
  
  
_All these words are my deepest desire, I mean them truthfully and swear to them in name and blood._  
  
_Dean Winchester_  
  
  
He took the needle from the table and pricked his finger, holding it above the paper, that a single tear of blood dripped onto the letter, soaking into the spot just beneath Dean's signature. With a thundering heart, and a dark premise, he leant back slightly, straightening up. Dean laid the letter in the centre of the drawn pentagram, and began to meditate. It was an old practise, sure, but there was a reason for that. It was effective. Meditation is strong, fierce, and all-consuming, when it is let to be. Dean had long since begun mastering the art, and was increasing in strength. A soft, deep feeling of heart and intent burned inside him, his precision and output leaving him with an untapped oil well of possibilities. When he was ready, he knew what he needed to do next.  
  
"Lilith, please receive this offering." he said, to the blank air before him, as his eyes were shut. "I give it truthfully and willingly."  
  
He burnt the paper without folding it, while saying, "May the light of this candle burn brightly, and guide your daughter or son to me."  
  
Dean knew exactly what he was getting into-- he was sure of it. He was an experienced warlock, going on thirteen years of witchcraft; he could deal with a demon coming to him. He could take that, and he could handle the demon, that was for sure... He'd made some plans for the creature that would come to him, that, on other occasions, would be deemed unsavory, but were somehow acceptable in this case. If it was a demon, a child of Lilith, he could learn much from them. He could learn some of the oldest arts known to demon, god and goddess, even devilkind, should they permit it.  
  
Dean focused his mind on the images of his demon, coming to him, teaching him the ways of Lilith and her witches, warlocks, her demons. She might teach him to cast strong spells, things bold enough to put monsters under penalties for the remainder of their lives. She might teach him useful incantations, or she may teach The candles burned for a little over 30 minutes, when Dean began feeling things. Small things, at first. Gusts of wind, small wisps of cold air brushing his cheeks. Several minutes later, it increased. A tingling on his skin, so gentle and light, that it felt as if his hairs were being tenderly ghosted over.

A loud crackling, as the windows were frozen over, becoming icy and fragile. Dean's heart quickened, thrumming against his breastbone in absentminded horror, as he became aware of what was happening.  
  
"I thank you, daughter or son of Lilith, for coming to me." Dean breathed, not able to manage much more. "I welcome you into my life and into my dreams and ask all other spirits, demons and entities who have been attracted to my ritual, to begone and leave in peace."  
  
Dean's eyes suddenly fluttered open, when he heard the candles flicker out. The orange glow around the table was gone, replaced with an eerie cold and an abrupt sense of emptiness. His eyes widened, when he saw that the fireplace was reddening, hotter and hotter, but not dangerously.

 _"I've been waiting for this, all day..."_  
  
Dean jumped out of his skin, scrambling a little, when he heard the sudden, slick purr near his ear. He turned around, and saw someone, definitely not a woman, crouching behind the spot where he'd just been. By the bright orange lighting of the fire, he could see a pale, muscled body clad in shiny black leather and black jeans, head-to-toe, silver metal workings adorning its garments. A long, scorched-black tail was flicking strongly behind the demon. The demon, whose eyes were a darkest black, like beetles nestled into its skull. It had sexy, sculpted horns, like unbreakable blackened bone. Its pretty pink mouth twisted into a smirk.  
  
"I adored your love letter." he purred, his voice as smooth and wet as honey, sticking to Dean's ears. "You give someone like me so many... nasty ideas."  
  
Dean almost cringed.  
  
He wasn't looking to be… No. This wasn’t what he’d meant. This wasn’t what he was looking for. The man suddenly stretched his neck, slowly rolling his head on his shoulders, as if he were trying to get a crick out of the muscle. The bare, white flesh of his neck moving over muscles, was simply tantalising. The demon let out a soft moan, as he turned his vision back to Dean, his eyes flicking to a much more favorable, brilliant blue.  
  
"So." It raised its eyebrows at him. "You rang?"  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Okay, okay, look..." Dean said, getting to his feet, "I-I'm not..."  
  
"Not what?" it whispered, "Perhaps not ready, for me? I can remedy that, Dean..."  
  
"You... know my name."  
  
"I read your endearing letter." it mewled, coming closer to him, seeming so strong and abrasive, yet so graceful. "Dean, I think we can do greater than what you were begging for."  
  
Dean hiccupped, backing into the wall, as the demon approached him. His heart was pounding, his mind in pieces, as he watched the demon encroaching. It seemed pleased, and well aware of exactly how sexy it was. Dean was torn-- His every instinct was telling him to get out while he still could, to run, to escape and leave this creature to its wrongdoings. But, then… The other, confused, confounded half of him, was begging to stay. The desperate, hypnotised part of Dean, had its gaze pinned to the demon, the little devil that had managed to crawl its way out of the pit, sheerly because of Dean's prayers. Then, his opportunity was gone. The demon was before him, blocking his way out the flat, and staring at him with dark, lusting eyes. Dean shivered, as the creature bit its bottom lip, raking its gaze over Dean's suddenly rather meager form, hungrily.  
  
"Mmmh..." it hummed its approval, its tail swiping powerfully behind it. "I would love a piece of this."  
  
"Uhm-- not for eating."  
  
The demon gave a horribly sexy grin, his perfect white teeth bared almost murderously. The creature closed in on him, making him straighten up and smack his back against the wall. His breath was stuttering, simply high on the smells that the creature was radiating; milk, nature and roses, a musk so powerful and sensual that it made Dean weak in the knees to inhale around him. The demon licked its pretty lips slowly, enticingly, its eyes undoubtedly devouring Dean, just as much as the warlock’s were devouring him.  
  
"Do you... admire something?" the creature asked.  
  
"Y- Wh-Who are you?" Dean stuttered, his tongue tripping and tumbling over words, suddenly.  
  
"You can call me something..." he murmured, blood-scented breath close to his face, "Castiel."  
  
Dean faked a smirk, and made a move to leave, but was grabbed brutally and smacked back against the wall, where he belonged. The demon was furious; he saw it in his eyes, and he saw the insane desire and sexual need mounting betwixt their forms. A pair of glittering blue eyes found Dean's, sharp as daggers and as commanding as a sergeant. He shoved Dean a little harder, pinning him painfully between his vice grip, and the wall of his flat.  
  
"You said, in your letter... You wished for me to... take you to new heights." Castiel was purring, his eyes half-lidded, like he was getting off on manhandling Dean. He was panting slightly, his sensuality matching perfectly to his voice. "You said... so, so clearly... Dean, you wished for me to make you a witness to the fullest being of the Dark."  
  
Castiel nuzzled lightly at Dean's nose. "And here I am..."  
  
Dean choked slightly, his green eyes wide and in shock. He was quivering, wanton and suddenly so weak that he doubted he could hold himself up, if Castiel should choose to let go of him. He didn’t understand a word of what was happening. He’d said that he wanted to experience the ways of the Dark, not... The scents of roses and dew were overwhelming, making his head fuzzy, and leaving him to simply melt under Castiel's fervent gaze, those beautiful blue eyes turning him into a mess of sexual arousal and confusion.  
  
"Give me a kiss..." Castiel mewled, and Dean was agape. He half-closed his eyes, blindly offering up his lips to Castiel.  
  
Castiel, the demon who took his mouth without a single regret, and who laved his tongue over flushed, plump lips, and who was suckling on them, and nipping at them like a sex-deprived little monster. He was licking his way into Dean's mouth, feeling the hot, open wetness that welcomed him without a care in the world. The taste and feel of the dripping, oozing saliva was putting Dean on some kind of high, like poison going directly to his bloodstream.  
  
His eyes fluttered shut, the warlock struggling to stifle a moan, as Castiel was fucking his mouth with his tongue, tasting, tickling, wriggling his way through every inch. Dean's head was throbbing softly, his mind becoming foggy and unconcerned, his arousal getting harder and harder. And, as if on cue, Castiel reached down and palmed the space between Dean's bow legs, squeezing his rock-hard dick through the fabric of his jeans. Cas moaned softly into Dean's open mouth, as Dean's hands abandoned the attempts to fight him, and dropped to Cas's thighs, instead.

There, they grasped and dug in their fingernails, and felt Castiel's muscled thighs give slightly when he squeezed them. He felt the ripped skintight jeans fitting his demon so perfectly, under that leather jacket, and those black gloves; Dean was falling apart in his arms, just tasting the bloody, coppery-flavoured saliva pooling on his tongue, as Cas gave him the best make-out session ever. He hardly remembered where he was, much less the fact that he was jammed against the wall.  
  
"So perfect... The way you called me." Cas panted, the demon's lips flush with his lips. Dean moaned loudly, Castiel grinding his hips forward, dragging their bulges together. "...So smart, are you not? Calling me, thinking me to be your teacher? Really, you have it quite wrong... all of you do..."  
  
"All... all of... who?" Dean managed.  
  
"You warlocks. Witches. Think so highly of yourselves... That humanity, gives you a big head." he said, his words pouring softly like milk, but spat like venom. "Makes you all into megalomaniacs... It's disgusting."  
  
Dean could only quiver, tremble in Cas's tight, demanding grip, practically begging for it. For what, he didn't know. Death? To be fucked? To be let go, and released from this creature's mischievous spell? In any case, he was disheveled and falling to pieces in Cas's arms.  
  
_"Please..."_ he whimpered.  
  
"Please, what?" Castiel snapped softly, baring his teeth at Dean. "Please don't put you in a cage? Please don't make you into a slave?"  
  
He was puling the words in such a disgustingly mocking voice, that matched Dean's self-absorption to a T. Cas was right. He'd gotten a big head. He was turning himself into a megalomaniac, thinking he had the power to subdue such an ancient, demonic figure such as him, and he was going to pay dearly for it. A couple of stray tears tracked down Dean's cheek, from the overwhelming emotions and stress.  
  
"Ohh... Don't weep, little boy." Cas mewled, in a mock-baby voice. He thumbed over Dean's wet cheekbone, sweeping away tears. The contact left a trail of fiery sensations over his cheek. "Don't be so sad."  
  
"What're you... gonna do to me?" Dean rasped, his cock throbbing so hard, he felt that if he didn't get release soon, he was going to break something. Cas purred happily, nuzzling along the spray of freckles dusting his newfound warlock's cheek. He sighed, his vanilla and coppery breath exhaling hotly onto Dean's face. The warlock's eyes rolled back in his head, just trying to take it all in at once.  
  
"Mmmm..." Cas hummed, that little panting returned. "I think, in place of eating you..."  
  
Dean's eyes snapped open.  
  
"We could, mayhaps, have a little fun." Castiel mewled, close to his ear. "Wouldn't you like that? Be my slut, for a night? Just a night..."  
  
Dean whimpered, as Cas suckled on Dean's earlobe and worried it slightly between his teeth, leaving the flesh to tingle and the nerves to spark like a string of firecrackers. He peppered little kisses over Dean's ear, down his jawline, scraping his teeth over tender flesh, the strong sensations so arousing. his sexy, dragonlike horns were close to Dean's face. The warlock could smell the musk on them, the scent of orchids and cloves. It made him calmer, more accepting. Dean keened, giving himself up.  
  
"Dean... I have no intent of turning you into a slave..." Cas cooed, gently petting the cheek of his terrified little warlock. "No intent of injury. I only wish to revel in the pleasures of the flesh. To carnally worship you, all night, and all day..."  
  
"Castiel..."  
  
"Hush, love… I know. I'll give you what you need... What you need me for." Cas shushed, "Do you have a bed?"  
  
Dean nodded quickly, and Castiel hummed his approval one more time.  
  
The demon's eyes were drilling into Dean's terrified ones, as he was holding the trembling, regretful warlock in his arms. Dean could see the black, ram-like horns on Cas's head, gleaming a little by the firelight. Then, Cas looked to his left, and saw the bedroom. He nodded that way. Without relinquishing Dean, he started dragging him to the bedroom. The warlock was blissed out already, completely and totally intoxicated on the scents, the feelings and sensations. He stumbled drunkenly into the bedroom, tumbling onto the bed clumsily.  
  
Without a word, Cas started stripping.  
  
He unzipped his jacket, dragging it off his torso and casting it to the floor. Dean started fumbling with his shirt buttons, unable to stop staring at Castiel. He eventually got his shirt off, the same time Cas was unzipping his pants. He dragged the zipper downward, palming his crotch for a moment, before unbuckling his boots and yanking them off. Dean leaned back, simply trying to tear his jeans down.  
  
"Dean, be patient." Cas chuckled darkly, but Dean was going to fucking explode if this went on. He tore down the zipper and pulled off his belt, then wriggled out of his jeans, around the same time Cas was going to mount him. Castiel's tail was flicking wildly, and the daggerlike tip suddenly caught Dean's attention.  
  
"That's not gonna kill me, is it?" he asked, almost innocent.  
  
"No."  
  
Cas pulled off Dean's jeans and underwear, leaving him completely nude on the bed. The naked demon stopped to admire the Adonis frame that Dean unwittingly boasted. His strong arms, his chiseled chest that was glimmering with a thin layer of sweat, from the fear and the stress. His well-muscled bow legs, and his dick. His cock was so full and hard, it was almost standing up on its own. Castiel was in the same shape.  
  
He quickly mounted Dean, without a shred of human shame, and was rubbing his palms over his firm chest. Dean threw his head back, in a choked whimper as the bright, ardent sensations sent waves of tingling numbness over his body. The slick, hot skin of Dean’s mostly-firm abs, was running smoothly beneath Castiel’s wanton hands. Being in ignorant bliss of what was happening, he decided, was absolutely amazing. The demon's tail was snaking its way up, and was gently twining around his arm. Dean felt a hot, deep feeling in that arm, shooting through his body.  
  
"Dean. Dean, what do you want?" the demon purred, rolling his tongue over each word, as though his mouth was making love to each syllable. "How do you want me to please you? You want my mouth? Want to feel you so deep in my throat?"  
  
Dean whined softly.  
  
"Maybe bend you over the bed." Cas asked, calm and sensuous as ever, as he sent little lightning bolts of pleasure up and down Dean's body. "Bend you over, and take you, like you were made to..."  
  
Cas leant down and started licking, nibbling, biting at Dean's neck, his collarbone, his shoulders. He was marking him as his, and he was slicking over Dean's clavicle with his spit, and he was scratching up Dean's chest with his nails. He was giving Dean everything he wanted, everything he'd prayed for. After a long while, just lighting Dean's body up with the absolutely amazing sensations of Castiel's demonic passions, the demon pushed a finger at Dean's mouth.  
  
Hushing him, Castiel eased the finger inside, and Dean got the idea. He was sucking on Cas's finger, laving and rolling his tongue over the digit, getting it nice and wet. He was tasting sweet, salty, and sexy tastes of the demon's skin. Cas would sigh, as Dean was moaning around his finger, then around his two fingers, wetting the second one just as good. He sucked on them and wriggled his tongue over them, never wanting this to end. He was sucking on those two fingers like a baby, then making a sad, disappointed noise, when Cas slipped them out.  
  
"Hush." was his only word to Dean.  
  
Then, he lifted Dean's legs up, over his arms, and started prodding gently at his hole. Dean stuttered slightly, feeling the cold wetness at his entrance, and tensed when Cas gave him a devilish, sinful look. Castiel started pushing one finger in, suddenly enveloped in his tight, clenching heat. Watching Dean, he saw the warlock's eyes flutter shut, a small crease in his brow, as his head tipped back. Dean's mouth parted in a needy, soft 'O', reserved specially for those who were going to give him something amazing. Cas wriggled in a second finger, Dean hissing softly at the burn, his hand fisting in the sheets as Cas was petting, stretching his hole, compelling the unused, tight muscles to make room for Castiel's dick. Dean's free hand frantically moved up his own chest, searching for a pert nipple to pinch, roll wantonly between the pads of his fingers.

Cas grinned ear-to-ear, seeing the shape he was shoving his warlock into. He started finger-fucking Dean's hole, stretching it, scissoring. Dean suddenly cried out, arching, spurting precum onto his navel, when Cas padded at his prostate.  
  
"Castiel!" he squeaked, embarrassingly higher than normal.  
  
"Hush, Dean. Be a good witch." Cas said, spitting out the last word like roiling acid.  
  
He kept teasing and prodding at Dean's sweet spot, the warlock squirming and arching, his toes curling. Dean's face was flushed, his ears red, ashamed. Castiel was encouraging him to hush and take it, in spite of the bright, blinding feelings all over his body. His cock was hot, heavy and thick, resting in a puddle of precum on his stomach, as he was crying out helplessly, whereas Castiel had a bit more self-control.  
  
"Aa- _aaa_ -ah!" Dean hiccupped hoarsely.  
  
"Easy, sugar, you'll wake the neighbours..." Cas purred at him, leaving Dean to clamp a hand over his mouth in an effort to obey Castiel's orders.  
  
Dean whimpered sadly, when the fingers were finally pulled out, and he was stretched open real good. God, Cas had magic fingers. Then, his eyes scrunched shut again, eyelashes fluttering girlishly, as Cas rubbed the wet, leaking head of his dick against his entrance. Cas licked at his palm, then used it to slick up his cock. Dean would have made a grossed-out noise, was he in better shape than this. He was thrumming with excitement, his body on fire, different layers and levels of sensations and feelings echoing through his skin, his tendons, his bones. He was shocked out of it, when he was suddenly grabbed and flipped over, his front smashing into the mattress.  
  
"Cas?!" he exclaimed, grabbing a desperate glance over his shoulder. "Cas, please..."  
  
"Shh... I'm here." Castiel crooned, rubbing his hand up and down Dean's muscled back.  
  
Dean was whimpering, just gasping and moaning, as he was absorbed in the bright, burning, tingling senses in his back. Then, he was yanked out of his fantasies, when the spongy, mushroomed tip pushed in, gently passing the worked-open ring of muscle. Dean was mewling and keening, as Cas pushed further inside, the human taking his length inch by inch. The poor warlock was so high and confused, he barely acknowledged the shooting pains in his ass. Fully seated, Cas was starting with shallow, small fucks into Dean's ass. He was gripping the warlock's hips with a vengeance, strong pulses of his pelvis pushing his cock deeper and deeper, on each rut. Dean's eyes rolled back in his skull.  
  
God, this wasn't happening.  
  
He wasn't being fucked and loved mercilessly by a demon. He wasn't loving it and fisting his hands in the sheets to keep from screaming, and voicing his pleasure on the most animalistic level. Dean wasn't feeling strange, powerful thrums of tingling sensations over his body, everywhere Cas had touched him, laid his fingers, his hands, his dick, his legs. He wasn't high on the smells of blood and roses, calming him and thrilling him better than any drug. Dean wasn't being rocked into from behind, and he wasn't letting tears of ecstasy drip down his freckle-sprayed cheeks. He wasn't feeling trails and tracks of kisses, smooches, being pressed to his back, or the long, wet stripe that Castiel licked up his spine.  
  
"Castiel!" he cried out breathlessly.  
  
"So beautiful, Dean... So sinful… a demon’s heaven." the little devil was puling, grunting, groaning, the slick slapside of skin a mere background noise. "Dean... So-- so amazing around my cock."  
  
"Uh-nnngh.." Dean ground out, trying to fuck the mattress for any kind of release, but it was impossible at this angle.  
  
"You want to cum?" Cas panted, balls slapping against Dean's ass, as he quickened the pace. "Want me-- want me to... fill you up... Fill you with my cum, make you pour it out..."  
  
Dean moaned, strained, sounding horribly like a bottom, "Yes!" he choked out finally. "Yes, I want it-- I want… ohhh, God-- Castiel!"  
  
What… He didn’t want to say ‘yes.’ That was never in the book. He didn’t mean it-- He didn’t want any of this, but it was so hard to say no… The very word wasn’t in his mind, for some reason. They were both being driven harder and harder into ecstasy with one another, Dean's crying out unavoidable, at this point. He was puling, crying, just trembling all over from the sudden waves of sexual satisfaction that the demon was giving him. He started arching, stuttering against Cas's movements, and then he was bowing into the mattress, shoving his face into the sheets to stifle the loudest, slutty groan he'd ever made. Cum was spurting everywhere, just pouring onto the carpet and the side of the bed, Dean's head throbbing, his muscles locking up, and his vision was being whited out. Little lights flew across his eyes, waves of the orgasm washing over him, and suddenly, another climax was being built.  
  
It was building, harder, faster this time, as Cas was mercilessly fucking his sweet spot, leaving him to rock in motion with the demon. Dean was barely coming down, when he was feeling that hot, hard coil at the base of his spine. Dean was tensing, clenching hard, then cried out and came again, throwing his head back like a wild animal. Castiel was saying something, chanting his name, whimpering, still fucking him.  
  
"Dean-- Dean… Dean," Castiel was keening, fingers clamping down on his waist, nails scratching Dean's soft skin. "Ohh… Dean-- Dean..."  
  
"Cas-- Cas, please, I can't--"  
  
"Mine." Cas growled, thumping into Dean harder, as he was getting closer and closer to the edge. "Mine. My gorgeous witch..."  
  
Dean let out a string of pathetic whimpers, feeling the hard, painful pounding in his ass. The thick length stretching his inner walls, the spurts of precum wetting his insides. Dean's tears ran freely in streams, as he felt another orgasm shoot through him and Cas, the two of them screaming and clawing, bowing into eachother, cum pouring and spurting into Dean's ass. Dean's vision whited out again, pain in his hands from gripping the sheets, another orgasm rocking over him. He had enough time to scream Castiel's name, before he blacked out to the sounds of Cas growling and coming hard.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
Hours passed. That much was for certain. Dean was gently woken to a gentle, heavy petting on his side. A warm, soft palm was rubbing his waist, as they were spooning Dean from behind. He just indulged the idea that he didn't just have hardcore anal sex with a demon, and that he'd maybe just fallen on his ass. But, he knew that it was stupid, in the long run... There wasn’t a long run. Wouldn’t be a long run; he’d called for aid and teaching, then gotten a brutal lashing for something he didn’t intend to infuriate. Dean stirred, a painful ache in his ass making him groan angrily.  
  
"Dean?" came Castiel's smooth, slick voice, dripping into his ears welcomely. "You are alright? I was not too rough with you?"  
  
"No." he grunted, shifting back into place, letting Cas cradle him. "No. I'm cool."  
  
"I cleaned you up. I hope it wasn't to invasive." he murmured, pressing a kiss to the back of Dean's neck.  
  
"No..." Dean replied, blushing, not able to control the little smile that graced his lips. "Thank you..."  
  
Cas made a small, happy noise, nuzzling into the crook of Dean's neck. He sighed, his sweet, gentle breath calming Dean. "Dean...?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Would you... Would it be acceptable, if I could stay a while?" Castiel purred, like a kitten, his arms draping protectively around Dean. "Perhaps till morning?"  
  
"Sure." Dean said, without thinking. He rubbed his eyes, stopping suddenly when he realised what he said. "Wait-- no."  
  
Cas softened, sinking away a little, and Dean had an abrupt, terrible sense that he'd just hurt the demon's feelings. He thought it over for a second, as Cas kept retracting, almost recoiling, as if Dean had slapped him.  
  
"Cas-- wait, I didn't mean..." he moaned, intensely feeling a horrible, painful tearing of a bond. "I wasn't-- No, you can stay! I didn't mean you had to leave. I'm sorry. You can stay."  
  
"I... You are sure?" Castiel murmured hopefully.  
  
"Of course." Dean said, "C'mere."  
  
He pulled Cas's arms around him, letting them tighten happily around his middle. Castiel's breath evened out in calmness, and his tail wriggled underneath the sheets, draping over Dean's legs. The warlock blushed hotter, feeling the almost reptilian skin against his, in earnest, protecting nature. As Cas cuddled him, he felt the edge of a bone-hard, curved horn nudge against the back of his head.  
  
"Castiel... I want you." Dean sighed, confounded, absentmindedly lacing his fingers through Cas's. "I need you. I need you here, Cas..."  
  
"Of course." he murmured, pressing more hot, tender kisses to the nape of Dean's neck. "As you wish, it will be."  
  
It wasn't long before Dean snuggled back again, tighter, warmer. The warlock fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, with his newfound demon draped defensively over him. From here on, Castiel wasn't an assaulter. He was a protector. All he had been trying for, was a taste of Dean's own medicine, and that was finished. Now, he could maybe get to know this human a bit better. And, he seemed to like his horns and tail... There was a first time for everything.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
The next morning, Dean woke to the tweeting of birds and friendly glimmering of sunlight. Golden shafts beamed in through the window, shining and glinting just right. The room was cool and warm, comfortable. He just wanted to stay here forever, and sleep, but... Atop the dull aches and pains in his body-- his ass, in particular, he realised he was alone. Squirming around, he saw that there was nothing more than an empty space in his bed, where Castiel had been before.  
  
Dean jerked upward, a shooting pain wracking his backside when he did so. He looked around, almost pathetically lost, as he searched for that demon again. That demon, that sexy, awe-inspiring, mouthwatering thing that had given him the pounding of his life, last night. He swallowed dryly, reluctantly swinging his legs over the side of the bed, and forcing himself up. Dean grabbed his boxers, a painful sting up his ass when he bent over, then pulled them on. Once he'd woken up enough, he realised he was smelling fresh air breezing inside, mixed with the distinct scent of coffee. He cautiously traipsed into the hallway, but it was empty.  
  
Dean turned around, and saw the demon lounging on the floor, in the corner. He had his back to the wall, head resting back, reminding Dean vaguely of a model or pinup. Whatever Cas was doing, Dean saw that he was fully clothed, again. Castiel seemed to just take notice of him, and waved, wiggling his fingers at Dean. The warlock suddenly felt an embarrassing sense of arousal, the fingers making movements that reminded him of what they'd been inside last night.  
  
"Helloo..." the demon purred.  
  
"Hi." Dean managed, a strike of terror vaguely awash beneath the growing stimulation.  
  
"I hope it was okay."  
  
Dean quivered.  
  
"The, uh," Cas gestured further down the hallway, "Coffee. I guessed you may want some. Seems to me, it's a human habit."  
  
"Yeah... Yeah, it is." Dean murmured, trying vigilantly to tear his gaze away from the demonic seducer, but his eyes were seemingly drawn to him of their own volition. Cas gave him a warm smile. Finally, just as Dean was mustering up what courage he had left, the demon spoke.  
  
"It's alright to stare." he assured Dean, enticing tendrils curling around each word, like erotic fingers that touched and ghosted. The demon's tail was flicking seductively, caressing the floor, almost wantonly inviting. Cas gave Dean a sympathetic, needy look, pushing out his bottom lip like a stubborn child.  
  
"Cas..." Dean whispered, his voice strained, and in a blink, the demon was gone.  
  
He looked all around, panicking slightly-- No. No, he wasn't panicking. Simply... worried. He was fine. He just needed to get the fuck out of here. He spun around, and was suddenly grabbed and entwined with his demon.  
  
"I know all you desire..." Cas hissed on a deep, sensual level with Dean. He moaned softly against the warlock's collarbone, Dean immediately becoming overtaken by a fine tremor. The demon then took to licking at the soft hollow of his throat, dragging his tongue up the tender flesh.  
  
Dean's eyes almost rolled back in his head. Cas sighed, Dean letting out little moans of approval, as the demon was suckling at his clavicle. Huge waves of pleasure shot through the human, making him more and more vulnerable to whatever transgressions the demon had in mind for him. He could've bit down. He could've sunk his teeth into Dean's throat, and started bleeding him dry, but he didn't. Instead, the demonic little paramour took to inveigling Dean.  
  
"I know every way to please you..." Cas purred, pressing a wet kiss to Dean's throat. The warlock swore that he'd felt a hot rush of something radiating from the spot, if he weren't so out of it. "Every... single... way. And it's my duty, to exact some revenge… isn’t it?"  
  
Dean shivered hard, going a little weak in the knees, as Cas's hands wandered lower, captivating the plush, fine swell of Dean's ass.  
  
"Want me to please you, Dean?" Cas breathed. God, just feeling his breath on him was amazing. The hot, tingling sensations that echoed all over the skin, that chased tickles and vibrations down his chest, his spine, right to his groin. "Mmm... I can smell it on you like a musk. You're hungry. Just starving."  
  
"No, I...." Dean let the words trail off, when Cas squeezed his cheeks a little. The demon panted lightly on his skin, moistening the flesh almost carelessly. His breath was a sin in itself… Nothing so simple and required should be as exciting and alluring as it is, now. His hot, sweet breath was tickling and traipsing down his neck, lightly breathing down his chest, the tingles chasing to his groin.  
  
"Can I tempt you?" Cas mumbled, a hot breath shuddering down his warlock’s neck, and Dean melted into his arms.  
  
The warlock whimpered, gasping softly, as Cas huffed a deliciously deep breath onto his throat. The demon breathed a suggestive growl, letting Dean's hand reach up and touch his bone-hard horns, the elegant, perfect little things, that crowned each side of his head, nonchalantly sultry. Dean mewled hard, as Cas let a litany of small, panting breaths chase down the warlock’s moistened throat, tingling and vibrating down the soft hollow. Dean almost cried out, when he sank his teeth into his shoulder. The sharp teeth broke the skin and drew blood, leaving the warlock to shudder and groan in Cas’s vice-like grip, as the demon was lapping up the scarlet fluid like a thirsty dog. The creature drank from him, and bound them together, trapping them both in a twisted labyrinth of blood and hunger.  
  
"Cas, I..." he tried, but he was shut off with a kiss. A deep, desperately hot moan into his mouth, was the only warning Dean got.  
  
Dean suddenly bowed forward, moaning loud and coming hard, shaking, whimpering as his vision whited out and he poured milky, fresh cum all down his thighs. Some of the heavy fluid dribbled onto the hallway floor, as Dean was moaning and stuttering, his hips jerking forward by instinct. He clung to Castiel for dear life, just trying to ride out his aftershocks without collapsing, and Cas held him in his strong arms and hushed him, holding him flush to his chest as a sudden gushing of cum was splashing into the middle of Dean’s underwear.

In spite of the messy fluid dripping down Dean's thighs, Cas held him close and nibbled on his ear. Some dribbled and raced down towards his knees, but Dean was panting and trembling with the force of his pleasure. Never would he have thought, that a man could throw him into orgasm so carelessly, so easily...  
  
"Shh, shh... It's alright, lover..." Cas said on a tenderhearted whisper, nuzzling against Dean's temple. He bit down on his ear, again. "Shh... Let me take care of you."  
  
Dean gave a pathetic mewl.  
  
Cas gifted him another kiss, then another, and another, washing Dean in the flavours of blood, of roses, some kind of hypnosis coming over the unfortunate warlock. Dean reached down and palmed his softening cock through the soaked fabric of his boxers, whining hard at the sensitivity. Castiel pushed them down, letting them pool at his warlock's feet, exposing the cum-coated privates of his amour. Dean would have blushed harder, if possible. He also would have pulled them back up, if he could move without falling over.  
  
"Will you have me?" Cas whispered. Dean nodded eagerly, and Castiel smiled coquettishly.  
  
The demon grabbed him again, backing him up against the wall, and smothering him in a kiss. It almost made Dean aroused again, and he knew it would have, had he not just cum in his underwear. Hands wandered, rubbing, cupping and petting, squeezing Dean's legs. Strong arms kept him pinned to the wall, as he pressed hot, needy kisses to Dean's face, absorbing him in a tidal wave of pure, sexual demand. He didn't stop pouring the wonderful, delicious taste of blood into Dean's mouth, fucking past Dean's lips with his tongue, or dripping some saliva into the pool of his tongue. Dean was impulsively trying to touch his hardening cock, but it was so...  
  
He couldn't even speak.  
  
All he wanted was for Cas to keep kissing and licking, and give him that amazing taste of flowery dew, laced with coppery blood, and to feel the numbness it sent through his mouth. He wanted to let it drip out, past his lips, and feel it numb his chin, then his neck, and he wanted so much more than a kiss. Then, he felt Cas's tongue, still embraced with the powerful taste, laving lovingly over his swollen, pouting lips.  
  
"C-Cas..." he managed finally.  
  
"Oh-- he remembers." the demon purred, taking Dean's bottom lip into his mouth and suckling contentedly. "Mmmh... Want me to get you ready?"  
  
"Cas-- I said... you, have me." Dean mumbled stupidly.  
  
"I want you to say it."  
  
God, he was going to humiliate him as much as he could, wasn't he? Dean tried to focus on the tastes and pleasures in his mouth, making it all tingling and warm, and shit... but then it was dissipating. His eyes opened, a small crease in his brow as he tried to figure out what was happening.  
  
"Hush; I'll give you more, as soon as you speak to me." Castiel assuaged. "I'll mitigate this little pleasure, and, well... You know."  
  
"I need you." Dean blurted out, hands clinging to Cas's neck. "I need you, Castiel-- please... I want you..."  
  
"Want me to..."  
  
"I want you to hold me and stretch me, and fill me like you did last night!" Dean was practically begging, just desperate for that, and a taste of what he was missing. "I-I want you to just... like you did last night, but... Dammit, fuck me against the wall, and..."  
  
Dean hiccupped, and-- Wait. He did not have tears in his eyes, did he? He blinked several times, and they vanished, but the lingering feeling of diminished pride remained. Dean was sniveling and whining, as Cas smiled at his request.  
  
"Mmm... You want me to abuse you." he said in mock-innocence. "Want me to hurt you? Fulfil the craving of pain..."  
  
"Yes--" Dean begged, but he was cut off by the sudden feeling of two fingers at his hole. They prodded and pushed at the flesh, the pain that had been there before, not so much anymore.  
  
“On your knees.” came a deep, gravelly tone. Dean sank to his knees before the demon, trembling and sniveling, trying his best to fight it, but some kind of otherworldly force was pushing him down. Cas unzipped his jeans, freeing his rock-hard, leaking dick from its confines. “Get it wet, or you can disobey. Which is to say, take me dry.”  
  
Dean cringed, the very thought painful to process. No way in Hell, he could take something like that dry, and have his flat neighbours calling the cops. He swallowed hard, and with quivering fingers, he shut his eyes and took the head into his mouth. He felt like throwing up, as he pushed forward, taking it inch after inch. His tongue laved over the throbbing undervein, wriggling across the slick, velvety head over and over. He pulled off and licked a long, wet stripe up the underside, quickly trying to wet it thickly, liberally, when Cas knotted his fingers into Dean’s hair, and yanked his head back. The _‘That’s enough’_ was implied. Castiel bent down and grabbed him, lifting him to his feet, before lifting his legs and pinning him to the wall.  
  
“Cas--”  
  
Cas was taking Dean's weight as if he were a mere feather, simply holding him to the wall and bringing two fingers to his mouth. He sucked on them for a moment, slathering them wetly, before reaching back down and pushing those two fingers inside. Dean quivered hard, and let the fingers in, to do their petting and minimal stretching, in Dean's already-fucked open hole. He felt the fullness, but he wanted more-- So much more, he couldn't stress the issue enough. Fuck, what was this demon doing to him? The fingers stretched and petted gently, all the while Castiel was laying soft, satisfying kisses all over Dean's face. The warlock whimpered, as a fingertip traced around his prostate, then padded at it hard.  
  
Dean’s eyes scrunched shut, a cute furrow in his brow, a spurt of precum landing on his stomach, as he was keening and fucking down onto Cas's fingers as much as he could. Cas was chuckling darkly, as he tickled and made a ‘come-hither’ motion with his fingers, deep inside Dean. He couldn’t believe that he was getting aroused by something like... this. This... being dominated and virtually abused. It was stomach-churning, and it made him want to scream and cry, and just let himself drop into the corner and start sobbing, but he couldn’t. One moment, Castiel was stretching him a little wider, and the next, the fingers were being pulled out. Dean gave a sad little whine, but was quickly shut up when Cas kissed him.

He was getting more, more of what he wanted and what he needed; that delicious, sweet taste was being poured into his mouth, the beautiful smell of roses mixed with the coppery stench of blood, and he was clinging to Cas like a nursing baby to its mother. God, he had no idea what was in there, but it was amazing. He vaguely heard the unzipping of Castiel's pants, and Cas pulled off with a wet pop, before he started pushing in.

"Ohhh..." Dean sighed, as Cas sank into his hot, fine ass. His eyes unfocused, his dick throbbing against his stomach as the demon set a punishing pace.  
  
The demon was suddenly thumping into Dean, and groaning like he'd touched a live wire. Dean was clinging at the walls, at the corner, Cas's shoulders-- anything to keep him upright as Castiel started fucking him out, right in the hallway. His hand clamped down hard onto the doorjamb, helping him keep himself from falling. There was the loud, slapping sound of skin-on-skin, the sliding and panting of sex, just the scent of Cas, everywhere… Fucking everywhere, the smells of flowers and years of blood, radiating from the beautiful, amazing demon. Dean was so full, in spite of how fast and dirty it was.  
  
"Cas-- Cas, Castiel!" he was pleading, spurting more precum onto his tummy. "Cas, please..."  
  
Castiel growled through clenched teeth, and dragged Dean in for a kiss. Something deeper, darker than before and more amazing. Cas was panting hard into Dean's mouth, his fingers digging into Dean's thighs as he kept him up and pinned to the wall, just the slick, wet slapping of skin pervading the air. Dean was bobbing on Cas's cock, fucking himself onto the pornstar length, just trying to get all of it in, and more. Soon, Cas's hips started stuttering, his movements becoming even more sex-crazed and frantic. Dean cried out as Cas sunk his teeth into Dean's clavicle, then his lungs constricted, as he burst his load all over his chest, clenching hard around Castiel's dick, fingernails raking up the demon's back.  
  
"Cas!" he shouted hoarsely. Castiel only laughed at him darkly. “Cas, please!”  
  
More laughter, the cruel, sadistic echoing that Cas chuckled near his cheek. He was fucking him hard, thumping both of them against the wall, bruising Dean’s back, his shoulders and hips even more. The poor warlock was crying out and sobbing, clawing at his demon’ shoulders, begging for this to keep going, and for it to stop.  
  
_“Cas!”_ he cried. _“Please!”_  
  
The demon was growling, a deep, guttural noise, his fingers clamping down on Dean’s thighs, as the laughter melted into another groan. Sweat-slicked bodies were rocking together, the warlock’s being slammed against the wall on each fucking shove. Soon, when Dean thought he couldn’t take it-- couldn’t take any more, Cas’s hips started quivering. Sharp, jagged movements, breathless pants as he got closer. He was snarling dark nothings close to Dean’s ear, his balls slapping against the warlock’s ass, as he was pinned painfully hard between the demon and the wall.  
  
“Dean…” was among the sadistic chanting. “Dean-- mmngh…”  
  
Dean’s whole body was scorching with bursts of pain, love, sex, hunger, amongst more pain, and confusion, and the immense, building orgasm in his groin. His cock was bobbing, pink and glossy with precum, balls drawn up high, just ready to fucking explode all over himself.  
  
"Dean, I-I-- _I'm coming-"_  
  
Then it was Dean’s turn to growl and scratch at his partner, pouring himself into the sexy tightness that was Dean's hole-- His sticky, hot cum was spurted and gushed eagerly into him, with a loud, wanton groan. Dean seized up as another orgasm shot through him, from the groin up to his heart, then his throat, a sound fluttering out that was hardly manly. Cas chuckled devilishly again, feeling Dean trembling and shaking desperately, still clinging to him, his stomach painted a gooey white. The warlock was shaking, jerking back, riding out his aftershocks on Cas’s dick. Soon, when Dean’s breathing evened out enough, Cas pulled out his softening member. He hushed him gently, as he let Dean delicately regain his balance. The sticky whiteness was slowly tracking down the backs of his thighs, but he couldn't care less, at this point; he was so out of it, so lightheaded that he thought he might pass out.  
  
"Where's all this..." Dean mumbled, "Where's it coming from?"  
  
Castiel grinned vampishly, nuzzling against Dean's temple. "Oh... You mean your cum?" he asked, once again in mock-innocence. "Powers, dedication, love. I can make you cum as many times as I like."  
  
"Yeah? Fuck y-- _oh, my God..."_  
  
Dean was cut off by a sudden finger pushing into his ass, and another orgasm rocketing through his body, and he full-out collapsed into Cas's arms. A small, awed gasp punched out of Dean, at the little spurts of cum being forced from him, before he blacked out again.

* * * * * * * * * *  
  
It was nearly afternoon, by the time Dean woke up again.  
  
Cas was watching him. The poor little warlock that had been fucked raw, and come so many times he’d probably lost count. Well, Castiel justified it with the fact that Dean had summoned him for knowledge. And not just normal, run-of-the-mill demonic schooling. He’d summoned him, to learn from him, and make the knowledge of demons his own. Castiel had been disgusted by it from the very beginning; the self-worth, and the damn entitlement that Dean held, to Cas’s mind. The demon huffed, rather pleased with himself, on how he’d righted the wrongs of today. Yeah, he was a goddamn hero… Dean started stirring, brows furrowed in pain. He hissed, as he rolled over, and nearly jumped out of his skin, upon seeing Cas in the window. He scrambled and yanked the bedsheets up to his chest, covering anything that might be of interest.  
  
“What are you-- Please, just…” Dean whimpered pathetically, but Castiel didn’t have time for that.  
  
He stared out the window, eyes raking hungrily over the city, a rather nice feeling warming his blackened heart. The demon craned its neck, tail flicking sensually, as he inspected Dean. The creature came over to him, and started checking him for wounds, things that wouldn’t fix themselves. Dean was bewildered, by the sudden gentleness of the demon, as he tenderly examined him for any signs of hurt, or discomfort. It was the least he could offer, after all. When he didn’t find any, the little devil kindly let down his legs and turned him back around, giving him an affectionate kiss to the hip.  
  
“What’s going on?” Dean murmured helplessly, puppy eyes wide and frightened.  
  
“Nothing. You’ll have no fear, Dean.” Cas promised, “I’ll watch over you.”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“I’m going. I believe I’ve proven myself capable, for now.” he added suggestively, before turning his back to Dean, and glancing out the window one more time. “I’ll be around.”  
  
“But… Cas, please.” Dean was begging, now sitting up, trying to get to him. “Cas, you-- you can’t… I need you.”  
  
He needed the sensa-- the knowledge. He needed to know what Cas and Lilith knew, the secrets of the Arts, the beautiful, absolute spellworks and chants that they undoubtedly knew, and... He needed the sex, the feeling of domination, and the violence; the biting and clawing, the insatiable sexual appetite of the demon he’d accidentally brought into this world. He needed Cas. The creature purred softly, waiting for a continuation, but when nothing came, he took it upon himself.  
  
The demon smiled at him warmly. “I’ll be around.”  
  
A sudden emptiness was settling into Dean faster than he wanted, faster than he’d admit to. Just the words alone, had concluded the little monster’s visit. Then, Castiel straightened up, as if to leave. “However…” he said, a salacious grin gracing his mouth. “If you need me to… exact a bit more justice, on you, let me know.”  
  
And there, he vanished.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
This was never the way Dean planned it.  
  
None of this was his intention. He hadn’t planned to be… what would this even be called? Dean stayed curled up, shivering in his bed, scared and confused. He was trembling all over, small tears tracking down the side of his face, as he laid by himself. His phone had buzzed a few times, but the caller had simply hung up after a few tries. Dean hurt everywhere, especially ‘down there’, a horrible ache and throbbing pain in his ass, and all around. Bruises were over his body, littering his chest, back, arms and legs in purpling galaxies of markings and pain. He couldn’t keep from sobbing, just letting go and wailing into the fucking pillow, cursing himself and the magic arts for bringing him to this new low.  
  
It had brought him to a horrible, broken new low, that had him driven and molested by a demon, and just out-and-out disgusting. Vile sensations that made him hungrier and made him claw and beg like a sex-deprived animal. Whatever demonic magic that the creature was using on him, it had enkindled a deep, dark sense of revulsion in his gut, making him feel like more of a slut than he already was. The sheer facts of what had happened, and how he was begging for it, from a man, no less…  
  
His damn phone was ringing again. Buzzing, and vibrating on the nightstand, and flashing its little signal. Dean stretched his arm as far as he could, and knocked it onto the bed, just pressing ‘TALK’.

“Hello?” he asked irritably.  
  
_“Hey, Dean?”_ came Sam’s voice, _“Dean. Thank God… I’ve been calling you for hours. I thought something happened.”_  
  
“No… No, Sammy, I’m good.”  he said, blinking the tears out of his eyes. “I’m fine.”  
  
_“Mmkay. How’s the art coming along?”_  
  
“It’s, uh… Haven’t really had the time.” Dean said quietly, “Been busy, with… stuff.”  
  
_“Stuff.”_ Sam scoffed, _“Yeah. Alright, well… maybe we could go for some coffee, later? I’d really like to hear about what you’re planning to do.”_  
  
Dean shook his head, rolling his eyes. Sam definitely didn’t care about his artwork field, or anything around it. He just cared that Dean was taking care of himself, preferably better than he had been, after Lisa broke it off. Lisa… ‘Bitch’ rang through Dean’s mind at the thought. The woman still had the nerve to pay him a visit, every now and again, much to his utter and complete aggravation.  
  
_“Dean? You there?”_  
  
“No… I-- No, I can’t, Sammy.” Dean said, “Uhm… I’m not feeling that good. I might… I dunno.”  
  
_“Okay.”_ Sam said, _“Well… call me when you feel better, mmkay?”_  
  
And with that, Sam hung up. He was never really good with goodbyes, quite honestly. He ended his own side of the call, left silent and bewildered in his bed. Dean didn’t know if it was the ringing in his head or the steamhammer in his chest, but he suddenly felt horribly sick. His head was swimming and his heart was out of it, and in another moment, he was stumbling out of bed and collapsing in front of the toilet. He was hurling his guts out, trembling and projectile vomiting, just puking up anything he’d eaten in the past. His body wrenched forward, his stomach churning and spewing up the remnants of everything else.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
Terror has a dazzling face.  
  
The creatures of beautiful Sin are taught as much, from the moment of their incarnation. Their hell-blackened souls beat with the drums of passion and puissance, while their blood and flesh are mere aesthetic. The sirens, succubi, gluttons, and all such demons of sex, lust, hunger, are meant to be breathtakingly gorgeous, to have impeccable grace and fluidity in their moves, their speech and lovemaking. From the depths of Hell, these creatures of all Sins are inarguable, and can subdue any person with a mere breath or touch. Castiel loved touching and feeling, licking, biting, connecting to humans on their nastiest, most animalistic level. He loved being the centre of attention, and always being the one his admirer adored.  
  
So when he’d met Dean, a true lover and feeler, a powerhouse of physical and orgasmic gratification... A lovemaking machine, it had been love at first taste. He adored the feeling of Dean’s skin beneath him, its heat and its grandeur, the way he gave into his most dark and deluded desires. They both did. Maybe it was a sin, and maybe it was wrong, but Dean had asked for knowledge; Castiel had given him plenty. At the same time, he felt wrong for just leaving him, his charge, the one who’d summoned him out of that fiery, bloody pit. He still had much to learn, in spite of Castiel’s first lessons.

It had been nearly a eleven hours, and he could feel Dean’s need, his hunger and loneliness abounding, so strong that he could hear it from miles away. The demon shifted in his spot a little, sitting a bit more securely atop the old building. He looked down and watched his legs dangle lazily off the side, rather plainly. It wasn’t as though demonic Sins were good, though; seeing as they only led to physical, emotional, and mental gratification. Cas bit his lip disdainfully, as he thought about the rigid, unthoughtful proclamations of the Church hierarchy.  
  
He had already considered the fact that Dean may very well be against the corrupt, hypocritical goings-on of the Catholic church. It was easy for him to imagine, but likely not the truth. In all chance, Dean probably wanted to use all the knowledge Cas held for good, not the benefit of demonkind. Perhaps not even the benefit of himself, but he wasn’t really one to judge. Castiel heard the soft padding of a small creature meandering over to him, on the roof, and saw that it was a cat.  
  
“You understand, don’t you?” he asked pointlessly, gently petting the feline’s soft gray fur. “You know what I mean.”  
  
The only response Castiel received was a loud purring from the cat, and the feeling of that little living creature nuzzling at his hand.  
  
“Of course you do.” he muttered quietly. Very well then. If he was to give his knowledge to this new disciple, then so be it. It wasn’t as if Castiel couldn’t snap his neck with a flick of the wrist. He’d perhaps pay Dean a visit in a while, and give him some new insight.  
  
His human was dying to see him. He could feel it. The utter longing and need, want, the raw hunger for his demon, his master and teacher. It was vicious and stunning, all-consuming for the human. Cruel to be kind, that’s Castiel’s technique, as they say, but Dean was as needy as a puppy, poor baby. He likely didn’t have a good history with affection. Likely wasn’t accepted by the ones he needed most, especially for what he loved most. Some tough love was in order, whether he liked it or not, seeing as he barely knew how to get into it.

When Castiel had first tasted Dean’s blood, he’d felt a sweet, beautiful sensation on his tongue, and he wanted more. It was a perfect taste.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
Nearly seven in the morning, was when Dean was awoken by a knocking at the door. His body was aching all over, and he was thrumming with anxiety so hard that he didn’t stop to think that it could be anyone other than Castiel. Wrapped in the under bedsheet, he made his way to the door and, to his utter disgust, found Lisa. There she was, giving him that sultry ‘come hither’ look already, and it sent his stomach into wrenching. If he had anything else to throw up, it was coming soon.  
  
“Dean!” she said happily.  
  
“Lisa.” he muttered, quite curt, but she didn’t seem to take the hint. “What the hell are you doing here?”  
  
The jesting, wry tone he was using seemed to fucking bounce off of the woman. She jittered a bit, shrugging exaggeratedly. “It’s been a long time since we saw eachother, and I was just wondering if I could see you.” she said.  
  
Yeah, there was a reason they hadn’t seen eachother in a long time. But Dean’s legs were starting to hurt from standing idly at the door, so he gestured for her to come in. It wasn’t the worst thing that had happened in the last few nights. She excitedly bounced inside, and stood before him as he closed the door. Lisa didn’t seem to notice that he had a bedhead, and he was wrapped in a sheet, or if she did, it didn’t matter to her because she was going to strip him anyway. The very thought made him cringe and look away.  
  
“So, Dean, how’s the artsy life treating you?” she asked, in a tone that made it sound like being artful was something dirty and worth gossip.  
  
“It’s cool, I guess…” he murmured, and was suddenly struck to the heart with terror, when he saw what was behind her.  
  
“Uhm… Lisa, you wanna chat over some coffee, or... such?” he proposed, trying to keep her attention away from the pentagram and various magical materials of witchcraft in his living room.  
  
“Sure!” she said, “We should go. Now.”  
  
“Well, the trouble is, I’m really just…” he suggested, and she was nodding enthusiastically. “Uhm… damnit, I just--”  
  
_“Dean?”_  
  
Lisa’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, her mouth open in a comical O-shape. Dean whipped around to see… Thank the fucking gods. One double take later, he realised it wasn’t just Castiel, but it was Cas, in an absolute Bitch-Mode, if he was to tell anything by his facial expression. He thanked God for a second time, at seeing exactly how this would drive Lisa. His breathtaking horns and tail were all for show, his long, enticing tendril was swiping viciously across the floor, as he looked expectantly at Dean.  
  
Lisa made a sound like an incredulous hiccup, as she pieced together not only Dean’s near nudity with the rumpled, rucked-up bedsheets, but now along with the beautiful male creature leaning against the doorframe.  
  
“Dean…” she groaned, almost sickly, as she watched Castiel.  
  
The demon was fucking staring her down, his eyes sharper than daggers, as he narrowed them at her. Lisa took a half-step back, as he took one forward, then he shifted his killer gaze to Dean, who was so fucking caught between problems at the moment, he simply stood there. Cas fluttered his eyelashes invitingly, giving off some serious ‘get back in the fucking bed’ vibes.  
  
“Who are you?” Lisa demanded.  
  
“He’s my--”  
  
“I’m his lover.” Castiel snapped, rather possessively in tone, “He didn’t say anything about another one. Dean, do you know her?”  
  
“I-- I should go.” Lisa said, no less than disgusted as she turned on her heel and bolted for the front door.  
  
The loud slap of wood on wood was a welcome sort, and she probably didn’t even notice the witchcraft on the table. Castiel flexed out his shoulders triumphantly, his head held high and back straight as he smiled to himself. The demon was practically purring when Dean got to him, his blue eyes darkened considerably with lust and conquest. The warlock actually broke a small smile, when the creature grabbed his bedsheet and tossed it aside.  
  
“Cas…” Dean whimpered softly, “I’ve… I, uh, I was calling you.”  
  
“I know.” he mewled tenderly, his hand gently petting Dean’s cheek. A beautiful, hot rush of affection and tingling sensations radiated from that spot. Dean’s eyes fluttered shut, and he leaned into Cas’s hold. “Lie down.”  
  
Cas nodded towards his bed, and the warlock quickly jumped into it, laying on his back, open for anything the demon had in mind. He didn’t think for a second. He was completely open and naked, fully there for the taking, and Castiel was suddenly climbing on top of him. Dean moaned softly, as he let his weight sink down onto the warlock, and the demon took his mouth without a second thought. Lisa had completely left his mind, just as Castiel’s tongue had entered his mouth. Heretofore, it had been Lisa, Lisa, Lisa, and then Cas had been summoned, taken him… Started twisting him. The hot, thick saliva dribbling out of his mouth was amazing, the addictive smells of roses and blood were awe-inspiring.

Soft breaths trailed down his chest, as Cas left a path of warm, wet kisses down his chiseled torso. Dean’s throbbing hard-on jutted against the underside of Cas’s jaw.  
  
“Mmm.” he chuckled darkly, looking up at Dean from behind his long, pretty lashes. “You miss me?”  
  
“I missed you… Missed you so fucking much.” he sighed, and arched off the bed hard, when Cas licked a long, wet stripe up his cock.  
  
His moans turned into whimpers, whines, pathetic little things, as Cas locked his lips around the mushroomed head of his cock, and started gentle and slow. Dean was scrabbling uselessly at the bedsheets, his toes curling, eyes shut, as Cas’s head began bobbing up and down his dick. The tight, wet feeling of the demon’s mouth around his cock was utterly amazing. His heart was kicking violently in his chest, his brain thrumming and telling him not to go through with this, but he couldn’t stop, now. Castiel took him down, inch by inch, his sweet, full lips wrapped around his dick, the petal-pinkness becoming a flushed red as he started hollowing his cheeks.  
  
“Jesus Christ.” Dean gasped breathlessly, his hand reaching down and finding Cas’s horns, just stroking and petting them lovingly. The bone-hard adornments were beautiful and sultry, and just made him feel so much higher. Cas hummed contentedly around his cock, letting it slide to the back of his throat, not choking once. He hadn’t felt something like this in, ever. Dean’s hips were jerking, but Cas kept them pinned to the mattress, as he went on with his work.  
  
“Fuck, Cas!” Dean cried, but it had little effect.  
  
“Mmmm…” was all he got in reply. A long, deep groan from his partner, that only made it that much more pleasurable.  
  
His body was getting hotter, tensing up harder, as he was brought closer and closer to the edge. Castiel’s tongue was working miracles down there, licking and laving over every sensitive inch, and tonguing at his slit just right. A sharp cry was the warning, this time. He arched off the bed again, hands fisting in the sheets, and just fucking all the way down Cas’s throat, pouring it out and feeling Cas swallow every last drop of it.  
  
“Fuck!” he gasped.  
  
His body was shaking and spasming, releasing it all in a wave of unsurpassed tremors and a thick gush. He dropped back onto the bed, taken and debauched, tears running down his cheeks. Cas hummed around him again, letting Dean finish his aftershocks before pulling off with a lecherous pop. The demon was fucking insatiable. He licked his lips, grinning at him, even more victoriously than before, then he stood up, getting off the bed.  
  
“Wh- What’s wrong?” Dean asked, heaving himself into a sitting position.  
  
“Want to see something?” the demon purred, “It’s a sort of… lap dance, I suppose.”  
  
Dean nodded eagerly, not exactly sure what Castiel’s deal was with the performance, but he wasn’t the type to turn down a lap dance. The creature smiled a gorgeous smile for him, before taking to cupping his face and letting his gaze burn brightly into Dean’s dazzling green eyes. The small gyrations of his hips were slow and gentle, his thumbs softly moving over freckled, blushing cheeks. The motions of his legs were smooth and mesmerising, like his tail, as it was held high and strong but still so fluid, and almost delicate. Cas slowly eased into Dean’s lap and continued the skilled tempo of his hips moving, in an obvious pattern, but he wasn’t sure what pattern that was.

His eyes were glued to Cas’s as the demon arched into his chest and nuzzled at the top of his head, then let his hands run down Dean’s dewy shoulders. Castiel’s eyes were jet-black, so deep and beautiful, like pools of graceful onyx. The demon’s elegance and poise as he was slowly, sensually twisting and sighing in his lap, was almost keeping him from breathing.  
  
“Cas… what is this?” he whispered, about as much as he could manage, simply watching this ravishing, exquisite creation before him.  
  
“Something for people like you, Dean…” he moaned quietly, letting his head tip back and bare the pale flesh of his throat. “Just you, for now.”  
  
There were no more questions to be asked, and none that would be answered, until Castiel was finished. Dean watched in awe as the lean, muscled body writhing, somehow glamorously, in his lap. He couldn’t tear his gaze away; it was for him. All of this was for him, and he was so taken, so consumed by it, that it must have all been a dream. Cas sighed softly, seemingly assuaging his desires for the moment being. The demon levered him back onto the bed, much more adoringly than he’d ever been before, and started stripping. His black leather was cast into a pile, his boots gone, and his jeans were thrown to the floor. He was there, all for Dean, and all for tonight.

**Author's Note:**

> So i hope you liked it <3 please tell me what you thought.


End file.
